


Bowing to Practicality

by SaltCore



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ana Amari is peak mom, Fareeha would like a new brother hers is defective, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hana Song is surrounded by olds, Human Trash Fire Hanzo Shimada, Humor, Justice Siblings, Long Haired Jesse McCree, M/M, his hair is amazing it's probably witchcraft, ultimate blackwatch bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:37:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltCore/pseuds/SaltCore
Summary: Jesse let his hair grow out, and while it’s not aproblem, it does present an increased risk for someone in his line of work. It seems like the kind of thing that should be very manageable though.





	Bowing to Practicality

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday present for my best friend, drawn from her own experiences.

                Hanzo and Jesse are taking their lunch a little later than normal. It hadn’t been intentional, but Jesse had been pulled into a discussion about the upcoming reconnaissance mission, and well, any conversion that included both Jesse and Morrison tended to run _much_ longer (and further off topic) than necessary. When it was possible, they tried to eat early, when the mess was quieter. Now it’s full of chatter and people, but there are worse things. Hanzo still has a plate of warm food, carefully doctored by Jesse to a surprising deliciousness for a prepackaged meal, and he can still hear himself think.

                Ana Amari materializes out of the din and sits down on Jesse’s other side. Hanzo takes advantage of his distraction to steal a sip from his glass of sweet tea. While Hanzo can say with certainty the beverage has at least been in the same room as actual tea, tea has little to do with it's actual taste. Just sweet enough to be tempting, but not cloying and free of the awful after taste soda leaves. Hanzo hasn’t managed to catch Jesse in the act of making it to learn the exact recipe, but he’s a patient man. He will.

                “Jesse, dear, what is this?” Amari asks. She picks up a strand of Jesse’s hair, which now reaches between his shoulders, between two of her fingers. Jesse hasn’t bothered to get it cut in some time, and it’s _delightful_. It’s as soft as velvet, and when the light catches it just so it shines with rich chestnut tones. Hanzo’s unabashedly enamored with it.

                “Uh,” Jesse says. Hanzo can’t see his face, but he knows the bewildered look that goes with that tone.

                “I hope you haven’t been going out in the field with this down.”

                Jesse has, in fact, done exactly that. He goes completely still beside Hanzo. Hanzo continues eating in order to appear natural. Jesse may choose to court death by lying to Captain Amari, but Hanzo won’t give him away while he decides.

                “Don’t even think about lying to me, child.”

                “Yes, ma’am,” Jesse says, sounding for all the world like a little boy caught with his hand in the sweets.

                “ _Jesse_ ,” she chides. “What if it got caught in something? What if someone grabbed it? You’ve always insisted on being in the thick of things. If you’re going to keep it this long, at least put it up when you’re on duty!”

                She looks very stern for a moment, but her expression softens. She brushes Jesse’s hair back behind his ear and pats his cheek. Jesse fidgets uncharacteristically, looking faintly embarrassed at her doting. It’s strange to see, Jesse is usually immune to being shamed.

                “I don’t hear other people gettin’ this lecture,” Jesse grumbles.

                “I wasn’t under the impression your Mr. Shimada was overly concerned with practicality.”

                Hanzo jerks in his seat. He opens his mouth to say something, but his better sense catches him before he says anything. The Captain is terrifying on a fundamental level. Hanzo has faced down assassins and terrorists and incomprehensible spirit beasts, but it’s Ana Amari’s steely gaze that makes his blood run cold. And, he supposes if she’s referring to his silk scarf, she’s not _strictly_ wrong. Hanzo decides to pretend he didn’t hear her.

                “Well then,” Captain Amari stands, arranging her coat. “Don’t forget you two, Winston is finalizing the requisition list, don’t get left off. I’ll see you later, dear. Good afternoon, Mr.  Shimada.”

                “Good day, Captain Amari.”

                “Bye, Captain.”

          

* * *

 

                “I think she was right,” Hanzo says.

                “Who was what now?”

                Jesse looks up from his tablet, turning to face Hanzo. Hanzo had been twisting a stray lock of Jesse’s hair between his fingers ( _How_ is it so soft? Jesse uses three-in-one soap for god’s sake.) but he lets it slide free to be certain he won’t accidentally pull it.

                “Your hair.”

                “I thought you liked it. You think I should cut it?”

                “ _No!_ ” Hanzo says, a little more forcefully than the situation warrants. “Just—what if she’s right? What if something happened? Maybe you ought to tie it back.”

                “Hell, if you’re both on this tear.”

                Jesse sets his tablet down and tries to gather it up. Strands fall between his fingers, loops curling up from his scalp. When he gets it wadded against the base of his skull, he looks around in vain for something to tie it with.

                “Here, let me,” Hanzo says.

                Jesse lets his hair fall and turns so he’s sitting with his back to Hanzo. Hanzo pulls his own elastic out of his hair and pulls it over his hand to his wrist. He runs his fingers through Jesse’s hair, relishing the feeling. Jesse hums contentedly, like an over large cat.

                Hanzo’s familiar with the usual military hairstyles. Cropped close if the person decided on short, or a low, tight bun if they decided on long. The buns look simple enough, only a little more work that the one he usually wears.

                He tries to gather Jesse’s hair up, but he can’t seem to get it to lie flat against his head. Some is always lose, or a strand escapes his hold. He combs his fingers through it over and over, but it’s no good.

                “I’m fallin’ asleep here, darlin’.”

                “I’m getting a brush.”

                It goes better with the brush, but only barely. He can picture exactly what he wants in his mind’s eye, but no matter what he tries the can’t get Jesse’s hair to cooperate. The buns come out lopsided or messy, and while some of them look almost artful, they’re too loose to really stay put under duress.          

                Perhaps he needs backup.

 

* * *

 

                “I literally let them buzz me in basic to avoid having to do that,” Fareeha says, shrugging. “Sorry.”

                Hanzo tries to picture her without her hair, and fails. If there _are_ photographs, Jesse definitely has one.  Jesse groans, letting himself drop against the wall with a _thud_. He scowls at the ceiling like its withholding information.

                “Just cut it shorter.” She gestures to her own hair, which sits above her shoulder. “Easy. You don’t have to do anything to it at this length.”

                “The point was to _not_ have to cut it,” Hanzo says. Hopefully that didn’t sound as defensive at it did in his head.

                She raises one eyebrow. There goes that hope. There must some universal constant among younger siblings, because the look she gives him irritates in the exact same way as Genji’s.  

                “Not a word, Reeha,” Jesse says.

        

* * *

 

                “I’ve never done anyone else’s hair before,” Hana says, frowning thoughtfully. “How hard can it be?”

                They originally went to Hana knowing she has a fairly extensive array of cosmetic and hair products at the ready. She, of course, had been a pilot in the Korean military, and while they bent many of the rules to accommodate the eccentricities of the Meka pilots, apparently the regulations on appearance had been in force during the training period. Hana could do a picture perfect bun in a few minutes.

                She grabs a tote and follows them back to Jesse’s bunk. Jesse sits on the desk chair and Hana behind him on the bed. She pats the spot next to her, looking at Hanzo.

                “I want an assistant.”

                “Of course,” Hanzo says, huffing in amusement.

                She runs her fingers through Jesse’s hair to fan it out, then takes a moment to inspect his ends. She turns to Hanzo with an incredulous look. They’re in remarkably good shape. Hanzo can only shrug.

                “Okay, okay, I got this.” Hana shoves her sleeves up and opens the box. There’s an impressive array of implements inside. She pulls out a few hair elastics and a spongy loop that looks _exactly_ like a cake donut and hands it all to Hanzo.

                “What’s this?” Hanzo asks, holding up the donut.

                “It’s how you get that perfect round bun,” Hana says around a bunch of bobby pins.

                “ _What?_ ” Hanzo shrieks. This is cheating. It has to be.

                “Dude, hair doesn’t just do that. And Jesse doesn’t have _nearly_ enough to get a flight-proof bun without it.”

                Hanzo feels slightly vindicated. Failing because he lacked the proper tools stings a little less.  And, honestly, it explains a lot. Those buns are too perfect.

              

* * *

 

                “I don’t got this,” Hana sighs. Her own hair is up in a perfect, regulation bun. She did it while trying to figure out to do one for someone else. It apparently it’s not quite as easy doing one on another person.

                It doesn’t help that Jesse’s hair is as wild and stubborn as he is. It’s too smooth and too heavy to simply stay put with a reasonable number of elastics and bobby pins, but there is a tipping point where the tools are more hindrance then help.  No amount of hairspray seems capable of taming it, it lies how it will.

                Jesse looks to be asleep. His chin is tipped forward and his arms are crossed and he hasn’t said a word in half an hour.

                “ _How_ ,” Hana whines. “What is his hair even. Why is so soft?”

                “I don’t know.” Hanzo leans over his knees. This is demoralizing.  How do people _do this_ daily?

                Hana takes a deep breath beside him, rolling her shoulders back. He smacks a fist into her open palm and turns to Hanzo. She looks intense, like she does in the middle of a game.

                “No. I’m not giving up. We’re doing this, Hanzo. We’re going to beat him.”

                Jesse snuffles but doesn’t wake up.

                “We’re getting more help though.”

              

* * *

 

                Genji sticks his head through the open door.

                “Hey Jesse, you gotta—” He trails off when he _really_ takes in the scene in front of him.

                Jesse is beset on all sides by women (and Hanzo) wielding hair product and he looks _bewildered_. Genji thinks of himself and a fairly opened minded sort of man.  He’ll try anything once. Whatever _this_ is, though, he’s pretty sure he’s better off not knowing.

                “You know what, never mind, I’ll catch you later.”

 

* * *

 

                It’s Mei who makes the break through. Her hair is of a similar thickness and she very quickly recalls the muscle memory from her younger days in the PLA research corp. When she’s done, Jesse’s hair is finally, _finally_ in place. He shakes his head—nothing. He jumps—nothing. He even rolls into to hallway—nothing but Hana’s polite golf clapping.

                Hanzo pokes at the bun. He’s fairly certain he saw enough from Mei, but he wants to be sure both of them master the technique. There’s going to be practice in their futures, and that’s not just for the excuse to play with Jesse’s hair.

                “So, uh, how do I take this down?”

                “Oh, about that,” Mei winces. “That’s the hard part.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ana is very suspicious of anyone dating her dear, sweet boy, it's not just you, Hanzo. But also don't fuck with her, she doesn't take prisoners.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to hmu at https://saltytothecore.tumblr.com/


End file.
